Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Hubby and I were dancing (read shaking, moving, rocking but NOT dancing) to this song in the car, on our way to pick Dimples from her grandma's. Since I try not to listen to most songs with Dimples in the car, and since I tell myself that its okay to listen to them with Giggles as she doesn't understand the lyrics yet, I was savoring the moment.

I looked at Giggles sitting in her car seat, and shook my head and hands insisting her to dance with us. She gave me a strange look for a minute or two, saying with her eyes 'Are you right in the head?' and I thought its for obvious reasons, anyone who sees us dancing would look at us that way.

Then she finally gave in and joined us, and she is way better than us. I wonder where these girls are getting their dancing genes from, both Dimples and Giggles. Not from us, trust me.

But in the middle of the song, I started laughing uncontrollably. Hubby was curious to know why, and I have a feeling you are too. Let me explain.

I realized Giggles had not been astounded by our nerves to actually ask her to join in our pathetic dancing attempts, but at Black Eyed Peas for making a song for her!

Boom Boom is what she calls her milk- the milk she drinks, which is my milk-you get the point. Don't ask me why. I have no idea why. All I know, is that whenever she gets hungry, she comes to me, pulls on my shirt (down or up, whatever is convenient for her) and demands, 'Boom Boom'.

I remember telling my sister that its good that she doesn't say 'milk' when she is pulling my shirt in public, and she said, 'You think Boom Boom is any better?' She had a point.

She sees me changing, she goes 'Boom Boom.'

I bend down to pick something up, and she gets a glimpse of the source, and she goes, 'Boom Boom.'

The other day I went to Victoria's Secret. Just because. And found out they were giving away a $5 coupon just for trying on their new bra. Well ofcourse I picked one up, and headed right to the dressing rooms. And as I tried it on, you guessed it right.

Giggles kept singing 'Boom Boom Boom!'

So if you are ever at Victoria's Secret (or any similar store), and you hear a kid going 'Boom Boom', I must be in the dressing room next to yours.

Monday, April 20, 2009

Four years. I have forgotten how it felt to pee without any interruptions. Four years. That is how old my daughter is.

This petition has been long overdue. Reading about a mom's good shower turning bad at badmommymoments confirmed that I am not alone. Reading the comments to her description of her plight (which was great as usual. Description, not plight) showed that she is not alone. Together, us moms can make a difference.

Sign the petition and spread the word. Tell your friends, family, co-workers on phone, email, twitter, facebook, whatever medium you choose. Its us against those tiny intruders of our Pee-time.

Petition:

Let us Pee in Peace.

Because you do not let us eat in peace. Or shower in peace. Or sleep in peace. Or shop, or cook, or drive in peace. Let us pee in peace. Please.

We, the Mamas/Moms/Mothers, want you to know that when you see the bathroom door closed, it means you can not come in. We want you to know that, this is not the time to show us your art, or to sing to us the new song you made up. We are not interested. Not at this time. We are peeing.

We know that you were part of our bodies once, and your kicks to our bladder sent us running to pee quite often, how can we forget. But once that cord was cut, you have your own body, we have our own. And we don't feel comfortable peeing while you watch. It is just not right.

And its difficult to keep pulling our shirts down in attempts to cover as much as possible, especially with your running commentary about the various sounds you hear while we pee and poop. And we don't want to know how many plops you heard. Its disgusting. And embarrassing.

It would be highly appreciated if you could go find something else to do while we pee. And keep your little sister (or brother) busy too. We would like to spend these few minutes not worrying about what she is eating (toilet paper?) and what she is falling into (bath tub?).

Monday, April 13, 2009

Hello and welcome to the Art gallery of an upcoming artist, Miss Dimples. Playing with all abstract styles: cubism, neoplasticism and expressionism, here she presents some of her masterpieces. (Her Mama, being the lazy and forgetful mom that she is, had forgotten to send some of these masterpieces to the aunts and grandparents they were made for. This is her effort at redeeming herself. Mama's favorite: Carence.)

Art lessons are also available if payments are made in the form of candy.

Sun, Water, Sky by Dimples from early 2008.Orange and Purple washable paint on paper.

Flower by Dimples from 2008Pink and Orange washable paint on paper.

A bird suit by Dimples from 2009Black washable non-toxic marker on paper.

House with a jelly fish by Dimples from 2009.Green washable non-toxic marker on paper.

Rocket ship by Dimples from 2009.Red, Green and Black washable markers on paper.

Carence by Dimples from 2009.Non-washable black pen on paper.

Background:What is this?For the nose to play with.But what is it? A carence.What's a carence?This is a carence. You go round and round, and put your nose here. (pointing at the dark spot which on further inspection turned out to be a slit in the paper. Perfect for a nose to fit in.)

Pretty Dinosaur by Dimples from early 2008.Washable Orange paint on paper.

Angry Dinosaur by Dimples from early 2008Washable Brown paint on paper.

Letters to Santa by Dimples from 2008, some time around Christmas.Non-washable unidentified marker OR pen on green and yellow paper.

Dimples was little. We were visiting family. The other girl was older than Dimples. They were given something to eat (cereal or something) and the older girl finished first and declared, 'I win!'

We clapped and smiled. (trying to remember if this was announced a competition. No, it wasn't.)

'I'm a winner. She lost. She is a loser.' We stopped smiling. Hubby would have punched the older girl, if only she was older enough. And also if she was not a girl. Minor details.

We tried explaining to her that when Dimples finishes her cereal, she would be a winner too. 'No, she lost. She is a loser.'

********************I would like to get a Vera Bradley bag one day. I love the colors, the prints, but I don't like the prices for bags that are now made in China instead of USA. I mean I can buy similar bags for much less somewhere else. But I would like to get a Vera Bradley. So I entered for a giveaway last fall for their Puccini Morgan. The Vera Bradley retailer near my place is never busy when I go there, so I felt confident that I would win this bag. (Each retailer could give away one bag)

Finally the day came when the winner was to be announced. I did not receive any phone call. The day was over.

I did not win the bag. Someone else did. They were the winner. I was a loser.

**********************

Three Bay B Chics and Hot Caramel Mocha recently had a Chic Chat giveaway. Other bloggers like Kathy B from the world according to me, Grand Pooba, and Optimistic Cynicism also participated, put up vlogs, and made us laugh and think. It was great fun to watch them talk about blogging, no doubt about it.

But I also entered for the fabulous giveaway, and I knew I would win.

But I didn't. These fabulous ladies did. They are the winners. I am a loser.

Now if it were Dimples in my place (who had entered this giveaway and lost) I could have said to her:

It's Okay.

There were a lot of other people who entered the giveaway, you were not the only one.

You were not the only one who wanted the prizes.

Everyone cannot win.

You will win next time.

But its me who lost. And I know there were a lot of other people who entered the giveaway. And I know that I wasn't the only one who wanted the prizes. And I know that everyone could not have won. And I know that I did not win this time. But I wanted to. Damnit.

Dimples is a better loser than me. I whine about losing, which makes me a bigger loser. And then I whine in front of the winners, which makes me the biggest loser. Shame on me.

I know I'm obsessing over Dimples' non-pink Birthday party, but if I blog about it, somehow I convince myself that its part of the planning and working for the party. So, it takes the guilt away. Kind of.

Okay so I will make this a short one.

One of the games I am having at the party is:

Pin the Hat on the CatWhat you will need:

1/2 blue poster board

1 white poster board

1 foam board

pencil

red crayon

black crayon

glue

scissors

some thumb pins

How to make it:

Look up a picture of the Cat in the Hat on the internet, or on your child's book. Sketch it out on the white poster board with a pencil. Color in with red crayon/pencil.

Then cut it out.

Paste it onto blue poster board, to one side like on the book cover.

Outline with black crayon. (Don't forget the whiskers)

Cut out the letters for PIN THE HAT ON THE CAT and paste them onto the blue poster board. (You could buy a stencil to do this, so your letters won't look as crooked as mine. But I think the crookedness looks Dr. Seussy. Or I comfort myself.)

Pin up the blue poster board onto the foam board.

Make a hat just like the one your Cat is wearing, and have the kids pin it up on the Cat.

Monday, April 6, 2009

Its like I am speaking in a foreign language that Dimples does not understand, when I say 'Hurry.' Or, any other words that fall in the synonym category or close-to-being-a-synonym category for that matter.

Quick.

Fast.

Speed it up.

I might as well be saying limpora, brinka, or fibikoon. Yeah, they don't mean anything, but for Dimples they are all the same. Meaningless.

It is a constant struggle to get her to do anything.

Breakfast lasts until lunch time.

When asked to go pee, she tells me that her pee pee won't work. I ask her to try anyways, and after spending (read wasting) a loooooong time convincing, when she finally does try, sometimes she tells me, 'It doesn't work. Maybe it needs new batteries!'

Go upstairs. I need to play some games on the computer. No, its bedtime. You have to wake up early. Just for a little while. No, you will be tired in the morning if you don't go to bed now. Just one game, Mama.Please. Dimples, Please. Mama is tired and sleepy. Giggles is tired. Please Mama, pretty pretty please. *sigh* Okay, I'm going to put Giggles to sleep. When I come back, you have to go up with me.

Then, finally when she comes up, its the pee pee wars. Takes forever getting into her jammies. Wants me to tell her 3 stories every night, and long ones. Then she wants a facial, pretend one. Then a song while I scratch her back. And then a foot massage. Sometimes the requests for the foot rub and back scratching come together, so I am singing, scratching and rubbing at the same time- dozing off from time to time. Me, not her.

And then leaving home, to go anywhere takes forever. She does not grasp the concept of 'running late'. She moves at the same turtle pace no matter what.

Hurry up please. We are running late.

Can you please go wear your shoes? I want my party shoes. Look around they must be somewhere. No, I don't see them. Wear the pink ones. No, I don't want to. Go wear your sneakers, please. No. Party shoes. Look for them then! No. You! You look for them.

I find the party shoes right where she had taken them off.

Take your jacket. I can wear it by myself! Okay, do it quickly. We are running late. This is how my friends wear their jackets. (placing it on the carpet, and trying to show me some damn trick.) We don't have time for this. I am putting Giggles in the car. You have 1 minute to come.

I put Giggles in the car, and come back in to get her. She is still standing there without her jacket. I grab her jacket, and tell her to move. I had to open the door. Well, I just opened it. Hurry up. I had to be in the front. *sigh* Go ahead. Oh. I had to get my baby (her doll). We don't have time. Please lets just leave. I'll be right back.

Anyway. So we finally get wherever it is that we were going, but we are obviously late. Its okay to be a little late to the doctor's office, or a playdate. (or, maybe not, but moving on) This time, we were late to her Tae-Kwondo class.

As frustrated as I was with the struggle to get there, I was pretty impressed by her during the class. She listens to the instructor, tries to do as told, and mostly succeeds. Unlike some other brats who think its bedtime, or playtime. One kid is lying on the mat, oblivious of whatever is going on around him. The instructor has to pull him up a number of times. And then he starts running and giggling. My kid needs to learn to manage time better, but otherwise she is a gem.

Try doing all this at home. Its not easy.

When the time comes to get a sticker after class, Dimples in her white Karate suit goes to the instructor. The giggling, running, lying-on-the-floor kid is behind her in line. With a smile she looks up to the instructor, eagerly awaiting her sticker, and she is told, she cannot get one because she was late. I see the smile vanish from her face. I feel bad for her, but in my heart I understand that she needs this to make her understand.

But then, its the giggling, running kid's turn to get the sticker. And he did. Oh no you didn't. You black-belted son-of-a-*bleep* instructor. You break my daughter's heart, and give that freaking kid a sticker, who was distracting everyone in class?

Its about time I get a black belt myself, and kick some black-belted butts.

Friday, April 3, 2009

Dimples will turn 4 in a few weeks, and like any about-to-be-4-year-old little girl, she wants a pretty party in pink.

Its not that I don't hear her, I do. But in our close family we have kids her age that are boys, and I cannot not invite them to her birthday party. I would love to throw a tea party for her, with tiaras, wands, and even wings, but I don't know how excited the parents of those boys will be to see their little men in pink.

For her first birthday the theme was butterflies. The boys got books about bugs, to tie it to the theme. It worked out well.

I still haven't figured out how to make a pretty pink birthday party work with boys, though. So, Dimples will have to wait for that. And no need to feel sorry for her, because she will have fun in any party thrown for her, and she would complain about something no matter how great that party is. That's just how little girls are, or is it just my little girl?

After spending hours trying to decide on a theme for her 4th birthday bash, being the Seuss-loving Mom I am, I am throwing her a Dr. Seuss themed Party. (You would think, considering my obvious love for Dr. Seuss, this should have been the first theme to come to my mind. But trust me, it was not.)

The Cat in the Hat, One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish and Green Eggs and Ham are some of the very first books I read to Dimples. She could not understand, let alone read those colorful books, but she loved them.

So, when I told her she would be having a party with Thing 1 and Thing 2, The Cat, Red Fish Blue Fish and Horton; that her party would be blue, green, yellow, white and red but not pink, Dimples smiled with a twinkle in her eyes and said, 'I love red!'

Mom-I-Am

I am Mom to two beautiful girls. On good days, they are Dimples and Giggles. On bad ones, they are Thing 1 and Thing 2. They make me smile, they make me cry. This blog is for them. This blog is for all the moms who love their kids on good days and bad.

My Photography Blog!

As much as I love being a Mom and writing about it, I also love capturing each passing moment of my kids' childhood with my camera.Because everyday I miss yesterday. And photographs help me relive each passing day.Visit my photography blog:http://SymaKPhotography.wordpress.com